6/15/15/12 - 2701
1998, Notes of some classical piece soar in the stale smoke filled air Vodka sits next to the pad and pen, as I slowly choke down another hit of the foul liquid Ridden with lice I itch my crawling scalp and stare at the paintings starring back at me “Is this where I am suppose to be?” I think, (as… Continue reading "6/15/15/12"